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Cannon Fodder Villainess, My Wish Enemy Gets Double

souryourer
I quit…. Bhooom…. I have transmigrated….. I have become a villainess real daughter…. system, are you there…. Yes host I am a wishing system…. You can make one wish but I am cursed and your enemy would get double of what you wished. The upgraded function is to show the opportunities and chances or recent turning points of the people in a certain range around you for a price of luck points. The more luck points spent the more detailed the information would be. The luck points can be obtained by causing emotional fluctuations using the wish or other means. “Ho… my mutated wood power is with me, this system is good. Let’s make a wish first.” “I want to be groped and touched by a lecherous man…” (Oh… the touch is really good. this lecherous uncle seems to have practiced for a long time touching the women) The heroine nearby suddenly got sandwiched between two lecherous men groping her and touching her forbidden parts. The protagonist nearby suddenly felt an old ugly fat aunt touching his butt while a man in front of him touching his front…. (Protagonist became speechless… “Why am I being touched by people like this?”) After transmigration she has future memories of original owner. She is a brainless real daughter that was not welcome by her unloving family. The fake daughter is both white lotus and green tea. Accidentally fell in love with the fiancée. So participated in the wilderness survival reality show, targeted by some lecherous participants, because a scandal, abandoned by all, later there is apocalypse, natural disasters, zombies, mutated species but earth integrated into real cultivation earth. There are cultivators…. ……………………………………………… This novel contains Netori, cuck, netorare (NTR), netorase, cheating, adultery, lactation, exhibitionist, outdoor intercourse, sluts, bitches, whores, sissy, and other things…. Read it at your own risk… ………………………………
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I Leash Emperors: The Dead Shout. I Smile

The dead scream for justice. They have been screaming for centuries. In my office on the 88th floor, the sound is indistinguishable from the hum of the paper shredder. I have twelve of history's most dangerous minds in my vault—Caesar, Cleopatra, Napoleon, Wu Zetian, and eight others whose names are synonymous with the word empire. I stripped them of their crowns and their divinity and left them with the only two things that survive death intact: greed, and memory. Then I put them to work. The boardroom is their new battlefield. Stocks are their arrows. Hostile takeovers are their sieges. The First Emperor runs my supply chains with the same draconian efficiency that built the Great Wall. The Queen of the Nile runs my PR division and calls it beneath her. Caesar rewrites the legal architecture of an entire financial district before breakfast and considers it a light morning. The rules are simple. The Emperor with the highest ROI earns twenty-four hours of full sensory restoration—taste, warmth, the burn of real alcohol, everything the synthetic body cannot feel. The Emperor at the bottom earns something else: a Hell Start. Reincarnation as a beggar, a eunuch, a sacrificial lamb in the next cycle. They know this. It keeps them focused. Every full moon, the tavern opens. The millions they killed in their lifetimes gather as my Jury—compressed into a medium that runs on pure hatred, sustained by a spite so concentrated it has proven, against all known physics, to be a measurable energy source. They vote. They decide which of their tormentors leads the next charge, and which of the most venomous among them earns a temporary body to return to the waking world. Wu Zetian shed her imperial robes to kneel at my feet and beg for a private review of her HR directorship. Arsinoe—murdered by her own sister two thousand years ago—spent six weeks haunting Cleopatra's servers and built a perfect weapon before she ever asked me for the body to deliver it. Cleopatra herself believes her beauty is a currency I will eventually accept. She has not yet understood that in this building, the only currency is performance. I do not need loyalty. I need sharp blades. I do not trade in mercy. I trade in ROI. They believe this is my game. They do not ask why I need to win it. Rules? I am the rule. Harem? The highest-tier spoils of a game they don't know the stakes of. Every arc is a different world. Every world is a wound that needs closing. The Emperors do not know this. They never do. Perhaps the last thing standing between their world and oblivion is a man who stopped caring about it long ago. Let the dead shout. I smile. I have to. Tags: #InfiniteFlow #DarkFantasy #HighStakesPolitics #DivineAutocracy #GrimDark #RuthlessMC #HistoricalFigures #DarkHarem Content Advisory: Heavy power dynamics, sensory manipulation, historical figures in morally compromised positions. MC is an unapologetic autocrat. No redemption arcs.
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